


It Seems Like We're Meant to Be

by iwillnotbecaged



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, Laughter During Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/pseuds/iwillnotbecaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is stuck in a boring Intro to Poli Sci class when a really hot guy with a really cool prosthetic watching a Bob Ross video in the middle of class catches his eye.</p>
<p>Inspired by <a href="http://pesto28.tumblr.com/post/142712964862/freshfresh666-ok-honestly-this-is-cute">this tumblr post</a></p>
<p>Title from "As Long As You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Seems Like We're Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to SD_Ryan for reblogging [this post](http://this-simple-mind.tumblr.com/post/143535873049/dailyteamcap-x-sourcedailyteamcapevery), offering to write the porny bits before I attempted it myself, and general cheerleading.
> 
> Thanks to pringlesaremydivision for the read through and for encouraging me to give myself more credit.
> 
> Thanks to Ragazza_Guasto for writing [that one fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5352461) where you referred to Steve as a Jack Russell Terrier.
> 
> Thanks to nwschmucky over on tumblr for checking over the epilogue for me.

Sam didn’t actually want to be taking this Intro to Political Science class. He’d signed up because he needed the credit and it fit nicely with the rest of his schedule, but now he was stuck in a giant lecture hall with a bunch of 18-year-olds in their very first semester of college. It’s not that he had anything against 18-year-olds, it was just, well, they were eighteen and he very much wasn’t.

It didn’t help that the class was boring as shit. Sam had actually paid attention to his AP Government class in high school so none of the information was all that new to him, at least not at this point in the semester. Maybe things would be better in later weeks when they got to the section on comparative politics and international relations, but for right now, he was bored.

He obviously wasn’t the only one. Sam had been smart enough to snag a spot in the back row during the first week of class and thankfully no one had tried to oust him. From his vantage point, he could see everyone’s laptop screens during the lecture and for every person that was taking notes, there were at least three that were otherwise occupied.

The girl in the row in front of him had the IMDb quotes page from Brooklyn 99 up on her screen and was laughing to herself as she scrolled through. A few rows in front of her and to Sam’s right, a couple of kids were scrolling through what appeared to be Star Wars cosplay tutorials. To his left, a guy was watching a Bob Ross video with the sound muted, following along in MS Paint. Sam slipped his phone of his pocket to take a picture of that one. He’d send it to Sarah later; his sister liked hearing about the things he saw on campus and this one was sure to make her laugh.

Sam had noticed that particular student before. He was built and ridiculously attractive, if you liked guys who looked a bit unkempt. Sam certainly didn’t have any objections to the stubble on his (very nice) jaw and the (extremely touchable) long hair that was often shoved under a hat or pulled back into a bun.

It wasn’t the guy’s looks that had initially grabbed Sam’s attention (although he’d certainly spent more time than he probably should appreciating those). The guy’s left arm had been replaced by a high-tech prosthetic the likes of which Sam had never seen before. It had interlocking metal plates and seemed to move almost like a flesh and blood arm. Sam tried not to stare, and he wasn’t about to just walk up and start asking questions, but he was intrigued. 

And if Sam had started to think of him as Hot Arm Guy, no one had to know. Well, no one but Sarah.

He’d also noticed Hot Arm Guy’s friend, Angry Terrier. The friend only came to class sometimes, but they always sat together when he did. And while Hot Arm Guy was obviously trying to fly under the radar just like everyone else in the class, that definitely wasn’t the case for his friend.

Angry Terrier was tiny and didn’t look to be any older than 18 from behind, but he had enough opinions that you’d think he’d been around since the 30s or something. And he never hesitated to voice those opinions. Whenever the professor would start down a train of thought Angry Terrier disagreed with, Sam would watch him start fidgeting with his glasses and shifting in his seat. His face would get redder and redder until eventually he would interrupt and point out that actually that’s not what the purpose of the Second Amendment was or how checks and balances were supposed to work or whatever it was that he felt the professor had gotten wrong.

Hot Arm Guy would just shake his head and Sam would chuckle under his breath, thankful for a bit of entertainment to break up the monotony of the class.

They were both in class today, Angry Terrier currently haranguing Professor Meaders about how America didn’t actually have the most democratic electoral system in the world. He was on his feet now, yelling across the lecture hall and flailing his arms. The professor finally cut him off and moved on to another topic, and he flopped down into his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Hot Arm Guy kept painting along with Bob Ross with the prosthetic hand, but he stretched his right arm around his friend and gave his shoulders a squeeze. Sam couldn’t hear what he said, but he saw the tension in Angry Terrier’s shoulders ease. The arm stayed where it was for the rest of class, which was too bad for Sam. Hot Arm Guy was one of the only attractive men he had seen on campus that didn’t make him feel ancient, but it appeared that he was taken. Oh well.

 

Sam was desperately trying to stay awake, futilely checking his phone every two minutes in hopes that class would finally end. Angry Terrier wasn’t there today to spice things up and he didn’t think he could listen to one more minute of the professor droning on about the federal bureaucracy. His time in the military, not to mention the process of leaving it, had made him more intimately aware of government bureaucracy than he had ever wanted to be. It was Friday and his last class and he just wanted to get the hell out of there.

Just as the professor was finally dismissing class, Sam’s phone buzzed with a text from Sarah. He launched himself out of his seat and down the row, texting back as he made his way down the stairs of the lecture hall. His bag started sliding off his shoulder and when he tried to yank it back up, he lost his balance and smacked right into the back of the guy in front of him.

The very nice, very muscular back of the guy in front of him. The chiseled, statuesque back of the guy in front of him, whose messy bun was now in his face. The back of the guy in front of him whose bun was in his face and smelled _amazing_. The back of _Hot Arm Guy_ who was now turning around and saying something to him and oh shit, what was he saying?

“You okay there, pal?” Blue eyes looked concerned rather than angry, which was a plus.

“Uh, yeah, I’m good. I’m so, so sorry, man.” Sam bent down to pick up a notebook that had fallen. “I was just so ready to get out of here and wasn’t paying any attention. Seriously, I’m so sorry.”

Hot Arm Guy took the notebook he was holding out. “No harm done. Although you must have been a terrible PJ if you’re this clumsy all the time.”

Sam stiffened. “How, how did you…?”

Hot Arm Guy smiled and pointed at the emblem on his sweatshirt. “That’s the 58th, right? Pararescue?”

Jesus, Sam was making an idiot of himself. He looked down at his shoes, running a hand over the back of his head. “Yeah, it is. Sorry, I really don’t know where I’m at today.”

“Nah, I get it. It’s Friday afternoon — you’re probably already thinking about the date I’m sure you’ve got lined up tonight.” Sam thought he heard a slight hesitance in Hot Arm Guy’s voice, but when he looked up, there was only confidence in his smile.

Was Hot Arm Guy flirting with him? Did he want him to be flirting with him? I mean, obviously he _wanted_ Hot Arm Guy to be flirting with him, but he didn’t want a guy with a boyfriend to be flirting with him.

“Man, I wish. The only date I’ve got tonight is with my couch and Netflix.” Smooth, Wilson. Real smooth.

Hot Arm Guy hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his (incredibly flattering) jeans and bit his lip. “Do you want a date for tonight? I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t want to hurt your couch’s feelings, but I think I’d probably be a better conversation partner.” And then he winked.

Shit, Sam was fucked. Sex on legs was asking him out and he was going to have to say no because of his own fucking principles. Fuck him and his principles.

“Um, I’m really flattered, but I don’t—” Hot Arm Guy’s face started to close off and Sam stumbled to the end of his question. “I mean, well, don’t you already have a, uh, conversation partner?”

Hot Arm Guy’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt Sam’s babbling. “The guy who comes with you to class sometimes? Small guy, always arguing with the professor?”

Realization dawned on Hot Arm Guy’s face and he burst into laughter.

“No, man. Hell no. Steve’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids; we’re practically brothers.”

Oh. Oh! “So you’re single then?”

He gave Sam a filthy smile. “I am very, very single.”

“Sam Wilson,” he said, extending his hand.

Hot Arm Guy shook it. “Bucky Barnes.”

 

He and Bucky had agreed to meet at the Howling Commando, a dive bar on Franklin, later that evening. Now he just had to figure out what the hell he was going to wear.

“Something with short sleeves. Your arms look really good in short sleeves,” Sarah offered from her spot perched on the end of his bed.

“It’s October. I’m not going to walk around with no sleeves like an asshole.”

“That’s what jackets are for, dumbass. There, the green one.” Sarah pointed at one of the shirts in his hand. “With your leather jacket and the jeans I made you buy.”

He sifted through the pile of jeans on his floor. “This pair?”

Sarah cocked an eyebrow at him. “If I had been with you when you bought those, you would not have bought those.” She sighed and climbed off the bed, then dug around and pulled out a pair of dark wash slim fit jeans. “These,” she said triumphantly, throwing them at Sam’s chest.

“Ah yes, the too tight ones.”

“Those jeans are not too tight; they just fit. Put them on.” Sam did as he was told, and then stood in front of his sister for approval.

“Yes, excellent. Your ass looks great in those.”

“My ass always looks great.” Sam somehow managed to squeeze his wallet and his phone into the pockets.

“And it looks even better in jeans that fit.”

“Whatever you say, sis.”

Sarah crossed her arms and gave him a smug smile. “Yes, exactly. Whatever I say.”

Sam shoved her out of the way and went to grab his jacket.

“Don’t forget condoms!” Sarah called after him.

“Oh my god, Sarah, it’s a first date!”

“Better safe than sorry!” Sarah followed him into the living room.

“I hate you so much.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look stern.

“No you don’t.” Sarah leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. And then slipped a condom into his back pocket. “Just in case!”

“I’m leaving now.”

“I’ll be over at Kela’s all night, in case you need the apartment later,” Sarah taunted. Sam just shook his head and closed the apartment door behind him.

 

The Howling Commando was full when he arrived, and he had to squeeze past a (large and energetic) bachelorette party to even get to the bar. He had just gotten a drink when he turned to scan the room and caught sight of Bucky.

He was sitting at one of the small tables, angled so that his back was against the wall. Sam watched as he pushed the sleeves of his red henley up to his elbows and twirled his glass in his left hand. The light glinted off his arm as the metal plates shifted with the movement. Sam swallowed, squared his shoulders, and approached the table.

Bucky’s face lit up with a smile as Sam slipped into the other chair. “Hey, you made it.”

His hair was pulled back into a messy bun again, with a few pieces falling out artfully by his face. Sam almost reached up to tuck one back behind his ear, but thankfully he stopped himself in time.

“Of course I made it. I wasn’t about to stand up the guy who gives me a reason to stay awake in class.”

“Aw, you’ve been watching me? That’s kinda creepy.” Bucky took a sip of his drink, and Sam would have been worried if it weren’t for the playful glint in his eye.

“Well, Bob Ross videos are a lot more interesting than our professor’s lectures, even with the sound off. I gotta do something to keep myself occupied in between your buddy’s outbursts.”

Bucky groaned and clapped his hand over his face. “Oh man, you saw that?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I did.”

Bucky looked mortified. “It’s not just something I do for fun, I swear. My physical therapist suggested it to help with my fine motor skills. Giving me something to do in class was just an added bonus.”

Sam desperately wanted to put a smile back on Bucky’s face. “Don’t worry about it — I thought it was cool. At least you were doing something productive. I’m pretty sure the guy a few seats down from me just watches porn the whole time.”

“That’s just...what?” Bucky grimaced, but the light was back in his eyes. Nicely done, Sam.

“I promise, he does. At least he has the courtesy to sit in the back row. It’d be worse if he sat in front of me.”

“Maybe. Depends on what kind of porn he’s watching.” Bucky’s smile was filthy, and should definitely have been illegal.

“I’m not sure there’s a type of porn that I’d want to see while in a classroom full of people.” Sam shook his head. “Time and place, man. Time and place.”

“So you’re not an exhibitionist, huh?”

“Not in the least. I mean, I get why some people like the rush, but it’s never been my thing.”

Bucky’s leaned back in his chair and took another drink. “Good to know. I’ll have to file that away.” Sam wasn’t sure if the heat in his face was from the drink or the look Bucky was giving him.

The conversation meandered from there, covering most of the first date basics - families, hobbies, movies. They got another round of drinks and a discussion of the places they wanted to travel to someday led to the places they had already been. They compared tours and swapped stories and bitched about asshole officers. 

“So, can I ask about the arm?”

Bucky’s body had been loose and relaxed (and delicious looking), but he visibly tensed at the question. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you end up with such an advanced prosthetic? Who designed it? How do you control it?” Sam couldn’t read the look on Bucky’s face. “Sorry. Too many questions?”

“No, no, it’s nothing.” Bucky shook his head and leaned forward, forearms resting on the edge of the table. “It’s just— usually people want all the gory details about how I lost the arm in the first place. No one really asks about the prosthetic. I guess they think drawing attention to it is rude or something.”

“I saw enough shit over there myself. I don’t need the details unless you want to tell me.” He gestured towards the arm. “That though. That is awesome and I would love to hear all the details about that.”

“I’d be glad to share those details. It’s a ridiculously cool piece of technology.” Bucky bit his lip and smiled. “Maybe I could even give you a demonstration of what it can do sometime.”

Sam couldn’t seem to stop staring at Bucky’s mouth. “A demonstration, huh? That sounds…stimulating.”

“Oh, definitely. It’s got quite a few tricks that I’m sure could arouse your interest.” Sam didn’t think Bucky’s grin could get any more wicked, but somehow it did.

A chorus of squeals from the bachelorette party finally tore Sam’s eyes away from that (unfairly gorgeous) mouth. They were over by the jukebox and the whole group started singing along to a very familiar song that Sam hadn’t heard in a long time.

_You are my fire, the one desire_

_Believe when I say, I want it that way_

Sam didn’t even realize he was mouthing along with the words until he looked over and saw Bucky doing the exact same thing.

“You a big BSB fan?” Sam teased.

“Look man, judge all you want, but A.J.’s arms were a very important part of my self-discovery.”

Sam just laughed. “No judgement here. I had a similar experience with Brian’s jawline. I would have pegged you more for a Howie guy, though, what with you imitating his hairstyle and all.”

Bucky gasped in mock offense. “Low blow, man. Low blow. My hair is way better than Howie’s.”

“You gotta admit, though, he was rocking the manbun before it was cool.”

The women were dancing now, still singing along at the top of their lungs. Bucky stood up and held out a hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”

Sam didn’t hesitate for a moment; he loved this song and he wasn’t about turn down a chance to get his hands on Bucky. Before he knew it, they were both belting out the words, giddy with laughter and spinning around the small bar. The women cheered them on and pulled them into the group, but Bucky never let go of Sam’s hand.

At some point Bucky had pulled him in close and he didn’t want to back away, even after the song ended (too soon for Sam’s taste). Bucky didn’t seem inclined to pull away either, his right hand running up Sam’s arm to play with the hem of his sleeve while his left was a solid presence in the small of Sam’s back.

Bucky’s cheeks were flushed pink from the dancing and edges of his eyes were crinkled from his wide grin. Sam brought a hand up to his face and brushed his thumb along Bucky’s jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned in, pausing with his lips just a breath away from Bucky’s, letting the moment spin out and the anticipation build.

Bucky closed the distance with a firm kiss, his chapped lips warm and sure against Sam’s. It lasted only a moment before they pulled back and their eyes met. A small smile played at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

“You wanna get out of here?” Sam asked.

Bucky squeezed his bicep and pulled him in even closer, giving him another kiss, this one just a bit longer and full of the promise of things to come. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

 

They were back at the apartment and Sam had barely gotten his jacket off when Bucky grabbed him and kissed him within an inch of his life. What the kiss in the bar had promised, this one delivered. It was open-mouthed and wet and Sam never wanted it to end.

His hands roamed all over Bucky’s back, the back that he had spent hours admiring from just a few rows away. He felt Bucky’s hands wiggle into the back pockets of his jeans, and then Bucky’s smile against his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked in between kisses.

Bucky pulled back, eyes full of laughter. He held up the condom Sarah had slipped into Sam’s pocket earlier. “You were feeling pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

“What? No, that’s not—I didn’t—my sister gave it to me!”

Bucky leaned in to kiss along Sam’s jaw. “Your sister, huh? Does she buy your lube for you too?”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Bucky looked at him, a challenge in his eyes. “Make me.”

Sam was more than willing to oblige, sealing his mouth over Bucky’s, intent on giving him the best kiss of his life. He hooked his fingers into Bucky’s belt loops and pulled him down the hall towards his bedroom. Bucky’s hands wormed their way under his shirt as they walked, making Sam gasp as the cold metal slid up his spine. He broke away just for a moment so that Bucky could lift the shirt over his head.

Sam was pretty surprised that he managed to get his shirt off and Bucky into the bedroom without bumping into anything while walking backwards. When the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed, he sat down and began to unbutton Bucky’s jeans.

“Get that shirt off,” Sam ordered as he pulled Bucky’s zipper down and slipped his hands inside, tracing along the line of Bucky’s hipbones.

“Bossy.”

“Impatient.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, but did as he was told. Sam looked up at him from under his eyelashes. He knew he looked good from this angle and he wasn’t above using that to his advantage.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Bucky rubbed his thumb along Sam’s cheekbone, then leaned down to kiss him again. Sam let himself fall backwards onto the bed, and then pushed himself up towards the headboard, kicking his shoes off as he went. Bucky climbed on after him, pressing him into the mattress and licking into his mouth.

Bucky’s hands ran up Sam’s stomach and over his chest, then back down his sides. He hit a sensitive spot over Sam’s ribs, causing him to squirm and giggle into Bucky’s mouth. 

“Ticklish, huh?” Bucky grinned down at him. “I wonder what other spots I can find. I need to hear that adorable giggle again.”

“Don’t you dare, you asshole.” But Bucky’s fingers were already tracing all over his skin, seeking out the places that would make him shudder and writhe.

Sam whined and tugged at Bucky’s hair tie until the bun came loose and he could finally tangle his hand in the dark hair. Bucky’s mouth found that spot on the side of his neck and Sam tugged his hair in response.

“Maybe it was you that preferred Howie after all, what with this seeming fixation on my hair.”

Sam shoved Bucky away and looked up at his smirking face in shock. “You did _not_ just bring up Howie D. while in bed with me!” Sam rolled them over, pinning Bucky to the bed and straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. Bucky was shaking with laughter underneath him.

“Oh my god, your face! You look so offended!”

“Of course I’m offended! Here I am, thinking we’re having a good time, and you’re thinking about a 90s boy band!”

“Aw, Sam, no. We are having a good time.” Bucky reached up and slid his hands behind Sam’s neck, trying to bring him closer. “C’mere and I’ll show how good of a time I’m having.”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather be jerking off to the ‘I Want it That Way’ video instead?” Sam let himself be pulled down, grinding back against Bucky’s cock as he did. 

Bucky groaned. “Very sure. Very very sure.” Bucky brought Sam’s mouth to his for another filthy kiss, but broke it soon after. “C’mon. Let’s get these pants off.”

Sam stood up and wiggled his way out of his jeans, pulling his boxer briefs down with them. He tugged his socks off, then helped Bucky finish getting rid of the last of his clothes.

Every last inch of Bucky was gorgeous, from the tips of his toes to the look in his eyes that Sam knew mirrored the hunger in his own. His whole body thrummed with the need to feel all that skin against his own. Bucky’s right hand was gripping the base of his cock and Sam was positive he heard him whimper when he ran his hand over his own.

Bucky reached for him and Sam obliged, kissing his way up Bucky’s body as he went. He slotted a leg between Bucky’s and slipped a hand under his back when he arched up to rub himself against Sam’s thigh. Sam lost himself in sensation - the grip of metal and flesh fingers, the panting breath against his mouth, the slide of sweat-slick skin.

He reached between them and wrapped a hand around both their cocks, wringing more and more noises from Bucky as the tension grew.

“Yes, Sam. Right there, right there. Oh, god!”

Sam’s hand sped up, grinding his hips against Bucky even harder at the urging of his hands on Sam’s ass.

“Yes, c’mon...you feel so good. So so good.” Bucky leaned up to kiss Sam again, babbling against his mouth. “Keep going. I’m so close...so close.”

Sam let go of his own cock and tightened his grip on Bucky’s, swirling his thumb around the head. It only took a few more strokes and then Bucky was coming, head thrown back, mouth open and gasping Sam’s name. Sam didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful.

He took himself in hand, warmth coiling at the base of his spine. It didn’t take long before he was coming as well and then collapsing on the bed at Bucky’s side. Sam’s breath was finally slowing back down to normal when Bucky started laughing.

Sam rolled onto his side, trailing his fingers through the sticky mess on Bucky’s stomach. “What’s so funny now?”

Bucky turned his head and grinned at him. “You were so prepared, and we ended up not even using your condom.”

Sam looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter himself. He rolled on top of Bucky and kissed him through the laughter. After a few minutes of giggling and soft kisses, he pulled back. “The night’s still young, you know. I bet we can find a use for it.”

Bucky winked at him, like the ridiculous person he was. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

 

_Three Months Later_

“So are you guys taking anything fun next semester? I miss debating with Professor Meaders.”

Bucky looked up at Steve from where he sat on the couch with Sam. “Debating is a very kind term for what you did to Professor Meaders.”

“What?” Steve pushed his hair back out of his eyes. “Any academic worth his salt should be willing to engage opposing arguments. It’s not my fault if he couldn’t keep up.”

“Whatever you say, Steve. Anyway, none of my classes next semester look like they’ll be big enough for you to sneak into unnoticed.”

“Bummer.”

“I’ve got an Intro to Race and Ethnic Relations class that’s probably big enough for you to tag along sometimes,” Sam offered.

“Ooo, that sounds—”

“But you have to keep your mouth shut.” Sam cut Steve off before he could get too excited.

“But Sam—”

“I’m serious. You usually had a point with Meaders, but I’m not gonna let you whitesplain things to the professor of a class on race relations while you’re sitting next to me.”

Steve turned to Bucky. “Buck, tell Sam that I would never—”

“Nope. Absolutely not. You totally would and Sam has every right to tell you to keep your trap shut.”

Steve threw his hands up and stalked out the living room grumbling.

“Thanks, baby.” Sam leaned in to give Bucky a kiss.

“No problem. Although I don’t doubt that you could handle Steve on your own at this point.”

“I don’t mind the help.” Sam deepened the kiss and Bucky’s hands wandered down his body.

“You want a little help with this too?” Bucky looked up at him, metal hand teasing him through his jeans.

Sam didn’t bother using words to answer. He just hoped Steve would be smart enough to stay out of the living room for awhile. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi [on tumblr](http://i-will-not-be-caged.tumblr.com)!


End file.
